Yesterday was what I refer to as Muesday. You know, when dreaded Monday and Tuesday combine forces to deliver a one-two punch. The bad thing about Muesday is it comes with Muesday brain. Which, as we all know, is just a fancy way of saying brain mush.
Case in point, I somehow made a mess of my shirt while eating lunch. I don’t know how I did it. It wasn’t just a stain; it was an abstract piece of art.
“Dang me,” I mumbled. “I really need to invest in a Tide pen.”
“What?” my office mate asked.
“Or a bib,” I continued to mumble.
She realized I wasn’t going to explain and wasn’t really listening anyway.
I looked up and noticed my water bottle. Maybe I could use water and Kleenex to make sure it doesn’t stain? I picked up the water bottle – and this is where the brain mush proudly manifested itself – decided to pour a little on my shirt.
Yeah, more than a little came out. Not only that but it dribbled down onto my pants. In the conspicuous-what-the-heck-did-you-just-do spot.
Not my finest moment.
“That wasn’t smart,” I said.
“What?” my office mate asked without turning around.
I sighed. “Nothing, just a typical Muesday.”
Hopefully, I’ll have my groove back by Tednesday.

I like how your office mate doesn’t really listen to you. I had one just like that; the woman drove me nuts, it was like sitting next to a brick wall. No, actually, a brick wall would have been better.
Well, in her defense, she was dealing with her own Muesday Brain. Besides, if you saw your office-mate pouring water into her own lap, would you say anything or choose to ignore?